For the Sake of Law and Order
by The Queen of Fragile Hearts
Summary: A collection of established-Sherlolly oneshots that can be treated as independent from or in companionship to "Five Doctors and the Detective". The chapters are non-linear and non-sequitur unless otherwise listed. Rated T for suggestive themes, but nothing explicit
1. Chapter 1: Under My Skin

For the Sake of Law and Order  
**Disclaimer: Only the story name and chapter titles belong to me. I do not own any part of the BBC's _Sherlock_, much as I wish I did :) Neither do I own Frank Sinatra's "I've Got You Under My Skin."**

**Author's Note: Hello, reader! You might know me from my multi-chapter story, "Five Doctors and the Detective." If you do: FANTASTIC, 'cause I think you'll really like this! If you don't: I hope you like this collection anyway :) I promise to do my utmost to paint a realistic portrait of the (potential and otherwise) relationship between Sherlock and Molly. Please enjoy!**

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I've Got You Under My Skin

They had flown to Barcelona two days ago, on a case. He'd needed an assistant and how could she have said no? They had scarcely stopped moving since they'd arrived, and Molly was tired beyond reason, and ready to collapse in their hotel room. But he solved the case that afternoon and insisted that they go out for dinner as a means of thanking her for her help. She agreed, but only if he would eat something now that the case was finished.

They didn't speak through the entire meal. She could sense that he was too busy thinking to converse, and she had more than a few glasses of wine while he stared into his barely-touched salad. Eventually she stopped trying to eat or drink at all and just stared at him, wondering when he'd return to her.

The cab-ride back to the hotel was rather similar to their dinner: silent and charged with the heavy tension of unspoken words. There was an ocean between them, that roiled and raged with all the emotions they could not vocalize. Thankfully the cab stopped before the tempest began. He opened her door and handed her out. She tried to draw her hand away, thinking he wouldn't want to prolong the contact in their current state of friction. Simultaneously, he tried to pull her closer.

By the time they reached their room, static was practically jumping off of Molly's skin and she could hardly bear the silence any longer. As he sat in the chair in the corner and steepled his hands beneath his chin, she turned to face the bench at the end of the bed.

"I almost died today."

"Yes."

She sighed, and began methodically dismantling herself.

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Sherlock watched as she raised one shapely, slender leg and rested her foot against the bench. She leaned over her knee, reaching to unbuckle the strap on her high heel. She slid it off her foot, and repeated the torturous process with the other shoe.

Next, she turned her back and began to undo the buttons that lined the arched column of her spine. The dress fell and pooled around her feet, and she stepped out of it. Her hands ran over her nearly bare skin, dipping in at her trim waist and flaring back out to her hips. Suddenly, his throat was rather parched.

Paying him no notice, Molly released the clasps that held her stockings up and pushed them down her legs in a very languorous manner that belied the tension in the air between them. Before he knew it, she had discarded the rest of her undergarments, and was loosing her hair, pin by pin, until it tumbled down her back. She had grown it out over the course of the year, and it now fell in luminous waves to her sacrum. He swallowed as ran her hands through it.

Lastly, she removed her earrings and placed them atop the dresser. Her necklace followed, as did her bracelet. Now she was clad only in the diamond solitaire and the silver band that resided on her left hand. These, she gently worked off her delicate finger and lovingly stroked with her thumb before setting them beside the other jewellery. She knew exactly how to torture him, how to make him ache and burn with only the simplest of actions.

Without turning around, she husked, "I'm going to take a bath, Sherlock. Join me, if you like."

He was across the room in seconds, hands curved on her hips as he pulled her against him and murmured in her ear. "You bewitch me."

With that, he swept his wife into his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

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_I've got you under my skin  
I've got you deep in the heart of me  
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me  
I've got you under my skin  
I'd tried so not to give in  
I said to myself this affair never will go so well  
But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well  
I've got you under my skin_

_I'd sacrifice anything come what might  
For the sake of havin' you near  
In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night  
And repeats, repeats, repeats in my ear  
Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?  
Use your mentality, wake up to reality  
But each time that I do just the thought of you  
Makes me stop before I begin  
'Cause I've got you under my skin_

_I would sacrifice anything come what might  
For the sake of havin' you near  
In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night  
And repeats, it screams, how it yells in my ear  
Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?  
Why not use your mentality, step up, wake up to reality?  
But each time I do just the thought of you  
Makes me stop just before I begin  
'Cause I've got you under my skin  
Yes, I've got you under my skin_


	2. Chapter 2: Infinitesimal

For the Sake of Law and Order  
**Disclaimer: Only the story name and chapter titles belong to me. I do not own any part of the BBC's Sherlock, much as I wish I did :)**

**Author's Note: Hello, reader! You might know me from my multi-chapter story, "Five Doctors and the Detective." If you do: FANTASTIC, 'cause I think you'll really like this! If you don't: I hope you like this collection anyway :) I promise to do my utmost to paint a realistic portrait of the (potential and otherwise) relationship between Sherlock and Molly. Also, these chapters are non-linear and non-sequitor unless otherwise listed. Please enjoy!**

**Shout-outs: Many thanks to my very first followers: Anatomydoc, Irene90, Sherlockian2012, yeahimgonnariskit, drey'auc475, WhoNeedsTheLimelight, and kunani07. Also to you lovely reviewers: Anatomydoc, Irene90, MorbidbyDefault, and Rocking the Redhead. Kittens for all!**

**Please enjoy!**

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Infinitesimal

The blankets had fallen loose in the night, and covered just above her hips. The faint moonlight that streamed through the window glowed on her soft white skin and in her soft brown hair.

Soft. There was no better descriptor.

He counted the soft ridges of her vertebrae, traced the soft lines of her shoulders and neck. He reexamined the soft curve of her body, the flow of silken skin from her waist to her hips. She was a mystery he never wanted to fully solve; he wanted to spend the rest of his life deducing her, learning her.

She was more than a mystery. She was an enigma, and he had married her.

Quietly, he lifted a hand and placed it on the small of her back. Every bit of his attention was focused on the skin of his hand that fused with the skin of her body. Slowly, painstakingly, his hand slid up her back and danced over the beautiful, perfect curves of her spine.

She stirred slightly, and turned her head, exposing her face. One slender hand rested on the pillow beside her, the other disappeared beneath the blankets. He had decided, after much study, that she looked her most beautiful when she slept, when she could not fear the eyes and judgements of others, when she could not hide or make herself small.

Her eyelids flickered, and then she was half-awake and looking at him. A few moments passed before she spoke. "Have you slept at all?"

He shook his head without breaking her gaze.

"Thinking?"

"Always."

"What about?"

"Just... little things," he replied, and kissed her gently. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She nestled into him and quickly fell back asleep. He breathed in the scent of her hair.

The blankets had fallen loose in the night, and covered just above her hips.

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_"For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams..." -Edgar Allen Poe_


	3. Chapter 3: The Lightning Rod

For the Sake of Law and Order  
**Disclaimer: Only the story name and chapter titles belong to me. I do not own any part of the BBC's ****_Sherlock_****, much as I wish I did :)**

**Author's Note: Hello, reader! As the summary states, this is an established Sherlolly one-shot collection. These chapters are non-linear and non-sequitor unless otherwise listed. Please enjoy!**

**Shout-outs: Many thanks to my beloved followers, particularly my newest: Decaying-Fantasy, ladylillianrose, and The awesome beckster! A thousand and one nights of stories for my dear reviewers, especially those who commented on the last chapter: Rocking the Redhead, Irene90, Anatomydoc, Helene Gaspard, Sammy Katz, and Val (Guest)! Everyone who's invested their time in this story (and in Five Doctors) deserves a brass band parade! I love you all!**

**Now: please enjoy!**

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The Lightning Rod

"Just stop it! Stop it, Sherlock!" There were no tears. She never cried when there wasn't the time. "You can't say things like that! You can't _do_ things like that! You're so bloody brilliant but sometimes you just refuse to consider an idea that you don't like!" Her words fell on childish ears. He just sat in his chair, hands running up and down his violin. "Human beings. Try to understand them, sometimes!"

He was out of his chair in seconds and had her backed against the wall. "Try to understand them?" he thundered, "Try to understand them? They never try to understand me!" By this time he had her hands pinned above her head and she could feel his heart hammering against her chest. She was not afraid. She was never afraid. "Why should I give them more than they give me? Why should I be any better than them?" His fingers pressed tightly into her wrists and her blood screamed in her veins.

"Because you have to be, Sherlock. Sweetheart," she whispered. His head fell, forehead resting against hers. His normally-cold skin was burning against hers and his breath was ragged. "You have to be."

"I'm not a bad man, Molly," he rasped.

"I know. I know you aren't. You'll be all right."

Slowly he stepped away from her, hands falling limply to his sides. She could tell plainly in his face and in his posture that he was ashamed and hurting. Molly took his hand and tugged him back to his chair, pushing him gently into the seat. She curled herself atop him and pulled his arms around her. "I know you'll be all right. You'll always be all right with me."

Finally he returned to himself and he pulled her closer and buried his face in her neck. She never cried when there wasn't the time. She was not afraid. She was never afraid. Not of him, anyway.

The lightning rod does not fear the storm. It welcomes it, and drains its fury.


	4. Chapter 4: The Reasons Why

For the Sake of Law and Order  
**Disclaimer: Only the story name and chapter titles belong to me. I do not own any part of the BBC's Sherlock, much as I wish I did :)**

**Author's Note: Hello, reader! As the summary states, this is an established Sherlolly one-shot collection. These chapters are non-linear and non-sequitor unless otherwise listed. Please enjoy!**

**Shout-outs: 'Kay, so I'm so out of it since I haven't posted in forever and I've lost track of a million and two things. Moral of story is, thanks to all those who followed or reviewed after last chapter and to those who followed or reviewed Five Doctors in the time I've been gone. Much love to you all.**

**Now: please enjoy!**

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The Reasons Why

"Sherlock? I hope you've cleared your experiments off the table! The Watsons and the Prescotts will be over for supper in an hour and a half!" Molly called from the entryway as she hung her bag and coat on the rack. "Sherlock?" She rounded the corner and found him standing before the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back.

"Molly."

"Sherlock."

He settled back into silence, as Molly expected. She was just grateful that he had indeed cleared the table, and was about to go run a bath when he spoke again.

"You know, I have always set store by the fact that in all circumstances, once one has eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"Indeed? Is there a moral to this story, or are you just enjoying the sound of your own voice?" Though he did not turn to face her, Molly could practically feel the force of the scowl that undoubtedly marred his features.

"I do wish you'd let me finish. You know how I struggle with... things like this."

Suddenly she was wary, and she made her way into the sitting room, stepping carefully and speaking softly.

"Things like what, Sherlock?"

He still wouldn't look at her.

"Things like... telling you... that since I've eliminated all of the impossible solutions... all that remains... improbable though it maybe, is... is that I love you."

She crossed her arms and stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"And just what do you plan to do about it, Mr. Holmes?" she said, after uncounted moments.

Finally he turned around and tossed something at her. She caught it with ease, having become accustomed to things being thrown at her unexpectedly. She did live with Sherlock Holmes, after all.

It was a ring box.

"Actually, Doctor Hooper, I intended on escorting you to the municipal hall."


End file.
